“Ye think the Camerons may have come back?”
“I want to make sure they dinna.”
The other man gave him a shrewd look. “Ye ken for certain ’twas them?”
“I have nae proof, except here.” Rory tapped his head. “And I ken Neal Cameron will nae give up without a fight.”
“Does he care so verra much for Juliana then?”
The question made Rory’s temper rise. The bastard had no right to Juliana. He should have let her be when she’d declined his attention at the Campbell ball and most definitely when she’d done it again at Ian’s wedding. Instead, he’d abducted her. If Rory hadn’t caught up to them when he did—or if Cameron had stopped to shelter the first night—who knew what might have happened? He clenched his fists, then unclenched them, since Calum was looking rather pointedly at him.
“Ye care about the lass.”
Rory opened his mouth to deny it, then snapped it shut. Calum hadn’t stated it as a question. And… Well, damn it, he did care. Or, at least, he was starting to. Who would have thought someone who argued with him constantly and generally drove him barmy would be someone he found attractive? Perhaps not the right word. Certainly, lust lurked in him, had stirred ever since that kiss in MacLean’s hall, but since their escape, he’d come to appreciate Juliana’s inner strength. She hadn’t once complained about conditions, although he knew she’d been miserable on the ship and not felt much better on the horse. The weather had been miserable, too, but, in spite of her tart tongue, she had borne the adversities stoically. And then, when she’d been so ill with the fever…
“I ken Neal Cameron didna like my stealing Juliana from him.” Rory ignored Calum’s statement and focused on the question he’d asked. “What he cares about is his pride, and he’ll nae let it rest that we made a fool of him.”
“Ye may be right. Hold a minute and I will ride with ye.”
“Ye doona have to—”
“Mayhap not.” Calum made quick work of saddling his own horse. “But if he is out there, he will most likely nae be alone. Besides, I ken the territory better than ye do.”
Rory could hardly argue the point, since this was MacDonnell land. He mounted. “I’m grateful to ye, then.”
“Think nothing of it,” Calum said as he settled in the saddle. “My brother will be expecting both of us to go on the hunt this morning, so ’tis better ye have another pair of eyes to look.”
“And if we find Cameron?”
“Well, then, the lad will be our guest for Yule.” Calum grinned. “Trussed up like a turkey.”
Rory laughed and spurred his horse lightly. “A worthy feast indeed!”
…
After they’d gone, Morag stepped out of the shadows that she’d slipped into when she’d entered the stable behind Calum. She’d actually planned to surprise Rory—he’d locked his bedchamber door last night, but she’d huddled in a far corner of the hall to make sure that English bitch wasn’t going to knock on his door—so she’d seen him leave this morning. Unfortunately, for whatever reason, her uncle had seen fit to rise early as well and had spoiled her chances of a tryst.
They had lied to her. The Sassenach hadn’t been accosted on the road at all. Rory had chased after her and stolen her away. Why? Uncle Calum had asked if he cared for the slut. Rory hadn’t answered.
Morag narrowed her eyes. No Englishwoman was going to get her hands on Rory MacGregor. He washers. She had the next four days to prove it to him. And…if Neal Cameron wanted the Sassenach, the Morag would be happy to help him get her.
She’d just go back to her nice, warm bed and think of how to do just that.
Chapter Twenty-One
Rory and Calum returned to the castle, not having found any signs that Neal had circled back. While that was good news, Rory still didn’t trust that the man had returned to the MacLean holding for good. His instinct told him Cameron was just lying low…and his instincts were rarely wrong.
Most of the men had already ridden out to hunt, and he would join them, but since he still felt a sense of trepidation, perhaps this would be a good time to give Juliana a lesson on how to defend herself with a knife. A bairn could have taken away the one she’d purloined from the MacLeans.
He glanced down to thesgian dubhtucked into his boot. It was a good all-around knife, the double-edged blade not too long, well balanced, and not too heavy. Although it wasn’t a lady’s weapon, it made an excellent training tool.
Rory went in search of Juliana, finding her as she was leaving the breakfast room. “What are your plans for the next hour or so?”
She shrugged. “I do not really have any. I was going to look for Greer and Aileen.”
“Would ye like to have a lesson in handling a knife first?”
Her eyes widened. “Do you think I need to know how?”
